fmvR. 



>^- ^ 

Poems of Purpose, 






REV. ELMER E. DRESSER, M. A. 



-^ AUTHOR OF :^- 



^'^' 6 1893 



b .^lotuers for (£a 



Wilb ^lotuers 'for Calliope.' 



Sheboygan, Wis. 

Y. P. S. C. E., OF First Baptist Church. 

1893. 

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sf^ 






Copyright. 1893 

BY 

Elmer E. Dresser. 



The News printing Co., 

Printers and Publishers, 
SHEBOYGAN AND SHEBOYGAN FALLS, WIS. 




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PREFACE. 



HIS little book consists of a fev^ short 
pieces of verse composed at odd times dur- 
ing a numter ol years past. For the naost 
part they are some years old. Some 
tvirelve years ago, when pushed aside hy illness 
from more active employment, I put forth a 
small edition of "Wild Flowers for Calliope." 
Though marred by defects, among w^hich I would 
name an immaturity of critical judgment, 
though limited to a very moderate circulation, 
its reception hy a few^ men and vromen knov^n 
to the literary world has heen gratifying to me. 
For more than eight years I have absolutely re- 
frained from everything literary w^hich did not 
directly pertain to my chosen w^ork. I am novr 
led to resume the publication of my verses by 
the pressing need of money to carry on my re- 
ligious w^ork. A percentage on the sales of this 
book goes to my Y. P. S. C. E., which assumes 
the w^ork of putting it into circulation. The 
money w^hich it brings vrill certainly do good. I 
pray God that the "Purpose" may be accomplish- 
ed and the reader may learn the truth. 

"Love's proper epic is a noble life." 



^ >ii 



AN EASTER HYMN. 



Bright gleams the sun o'er the mountain of Olives, 
Chasing away the night shadows and gloom, 

Kissing with glory the hill-crowning city, 

Shining out gladly o'er Joseph's new tomb. 

Shout with rejoicing, disciples of Jesus! 

Empty the tomb is, the Savior is gone, 
Victor o'er death and the grave, he has risen, 

Joy in the light of eternity's dawn! 

Earnest of heaven is the Christ's resurrection; 

As to the river of death we go down, 
Know we our Savior has passed through before us, 

With him we'll wear immortalitv's crown. 



THE POET'S ART. 



The bard must ever sing the heart. 

Its ev'ry jo\'^, its ev'ry smart; 

For it incams the universe 

Of airy thoughts, which minds immerse- 

I mean the unpoetic mind — 

In influences undefined. 

Emotions vague, which, at the best. 

Unheeded are or ill expressed. 

When touched by the poetic wand. 

Take shapes which real are and grand. 

What then is the poetic fire? 

'Tis not the breath of warm desire. 



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10 POEMS OF 



Nor is it by the rhymer found, 

Though skilled to frame the chiming sound. 

Sweet to the reader is the song 

That opens vistas which prolong 

The unknown fair and good in life; 

Nor recks he of the wracking strife, 

The throes of agonizing pain. 

Which rent the great conceiving brain. 

One must not tinge his verse with wine, 
But with heart's blood incarnadine 
The glowing numbers. He must write 
The thoughts that sadden or delight ; 
Himself, if he would have the skill 
To move the reader at his will. 
What one knows not he cannot tell, 
And nothing is so laughable, 
So despicably passionless, 
As mouthing empty nothingness. 

To nature must the bard be true. 

His line should glisten like the dew 

With diamonds of ennobling thought. 

Whate'er of truth it be his lot 

To drink in from the streams of life, 

Like oil upon the waves at strife. 

To troubled hearts it should bring calm. 

His lays thus tinctured should be balm 

To hearts that bleed, a sweet relief 

To man\^ a spirit's secret grief. 



PURPOSE. 



'NO MORE SEA. 



We look upon the sea of human life; 

And thought-tides creep above low-water mark, 

Till, ere we know it, waves come crashing in 

Over the sandy stretch of commonplace, 

And beat against th' eternal cliffs of faith; 

And heaven, perchance, is cloud-shut to our hopes; 

And naught is heard but the impending storm 

Mutt'ring amid the mysteries of woe. 

Anon the tide ebbs and the storm abates, 

The winds hide in the caverns of the sea; 

The clouds uplifting break and fly away; 

And with new glory shines the Sun of truth, 

Gilding the cares and sufferings of life 

With joy intense, which is a prophecy 

Of that ineffable and endless bliss. 

Which shall be ours, when there is " no more sea, ' 



AHONQ THE FAIRIES. 



Scene I. 



Rose — Fairies, pause and listen, 
Where the waters glisten 
Neath the sunbeams golden, 
'Near the castle olden, 

'Tis a charm'ed castle, I 

Where care is a vassal. I 



12 POEMS OF 



^77— Let us go and see this wonder, 

When the darkness breaks asunder. 
Lily — An enchanting glory 

Hangs about thy story. 

Violet — Let us go together 

To the haunts of men, 
Light as any feather 
Settle in the glen. 

^77 — Yes, we'll go there in the morning, 

When earliest dawn the sky's adorning. 

Scene IL 

Fairyland asleep is lying, 
Through the boughs the winds are sighing, 
Darkness covers vale and mountain, 
And the pretty laughing fountain 
Gushes forth amid the willows, 
Trolls anear the fairies' pillows, 
Sinks into the distant billows. 
Where it loses self forever. 
Birds have ceased their vain endeavor 
To surpass the fairies' singing, 
And together close are clinging 
To the boughs. All nature's sleeping, 
While o'er head the clouds are sweeping. 
And the mist more slowly creeping 
Up the mountain, w^hich is peeping 
'Bove them all. 
I- H< 



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PURPOSE. 13 



Lo, the clouds are breaking, 

And the mist is making 

Way for dawn, whose golden herald 

Drives the darkness now imperiled; 

And the rare fantastic fringes 

Of the fleecy clouds it tinges 

With celestial hues and many, 

Clouds and darkness, where there's any, 

Rise and fall and toss and quiver, 

Like demons out of hell they shiver. 

And sink from sight. 

Music sweetly rare 

On a sudden thrills the air, 

All o'er the dell now filled with light. 

Shaking dew from garments white, 

Fairies, wholesome, sparkling, bright. 

Rise from sweet repose of night. 

"Rose, v^e'll follow^ you," they cry, 

"Through the air we'll swiftly fly." 

Scene III. 

Rose they follow, follow, follow. 
Over mount and wooded hollow, 
Past the homes of man3^ men; 
And to their soul-reading ken, 
In relief outstood the sorrow. 
Anxious longing for the morrow. 
All the troubles which men borrow 



14. POEMS OF 



From the future's unknow^n store — 
Devil doubt thus surely damning 

Devotees for evermore — 

And the fairies, sadly v^eeping 
O'er their folly's putrid sore, 
Passed them by, and with a smile. 
Scattering perfumes down the w^hile. 
Breathed a blessing on the head 
Of each man working for his bread, 
Happy in the golden now, 
And with bright, unclouded brow 
Trusting Christ for the hereafter. 
Sweet to them v^as heartj'- laughter, 
Sweeter still the fond caresses, 
B3^ which man's deepest love expresses 
The tenderness unspeakable. 

Scene IV. 

Tio.s'e— Fellow fairies, look and listen. 
See the limpid lakelet glisten. 

As the sun lets fly his arrows 
From his early, well-filled quiver. 

See you how^ the current narrows 
Of the swiftly flowing river 
'Round that home embowered in roses? 
Sweet the scent of fragrant posies, 
Sweeter still the bliss within it, 
For love reigns there ev'ry minute, 
ConstantU' they're clinging to him, 
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>ii. 



PURPOSE. 15 

Morn and night they fondly woo him. 
See you — I have seen it often 
And I've thought that it would soften 
Satan's iron heart to see 
Such untold felicity- 
See you how that noble man — 
Fini a nobler if you can — 
Presses to his heart and kisses 

All his prattHng little brood? 
Not a darling there that misses 

Telling papa he's so good! 

See you how with matron sweetness, 
All her womanhood's completeness 
Glowing in her loving eye, 

She re:'eives and pays good measure 
A kiss of wedded constarcy? 

Then, each one with untold treasure 
Locked up sacred in the heart. 
To their labor they depart. 

Such the paradise that ever 

Blesses their sublime endeavor, 

Jealousy can never enter. 

From circumference to center, 

Love interpenetrates their souls 

And all their passions thus controls. 

Heaven itself will be a song, 

Whose prelude they have known full long. 



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16 POEMS OF 

AJ1 — Love, sweet love, how can a mortal 
All thy blissful raptures scorn? 
Let him rather take the blessing, 
And with it his life adorn. 

Love is all on earth that's worthj^ 

It is all there is in heaven, 
"God is love," how can the scorner 

Ever hope to be forgiven? 



NOW. 

Degenerate days are these, 
So sigh the Jeremiahs of our age; 
And though they be as rightous as you please. 

They are more sad than sage. 

What tyro of the schools 
But knows that outward life has aye grown purer, 
That they who envy Greece and Rome are fools, 

And that there's nothing surer 

Than human progress, which, 
In other words, is but the spread of truth, 
Th' evangel lifting from the fetid ditch 

Of sin, distress, and ruth? 



TRUE GREATNESS IN HAN. 



Inspired of God, the Shepherd King 
Made all the hills of Palestine 
Echo with harmony divine; 



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PURPOSE. 



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17 



And, in his psalms, there is one thing 
That often to my heart doth bring 

Longings for spotless purity, 

Siicli as shall give security, 
When in my ear Heaven's anthems ring. 

It is the loftiness of soul, 

Above this sordid world's control, 

Which, 'neath the ruins of the fall, 

Perceives man's first exalted state, 
Made by Thee, Lord, king over all 

Earth's creatures: "for thou hast made him 
Lower a little than th' angelic host. 

And, crowned with glory," truly great. 
The sacred singer does not boast 

In chanting thus his heaven-taught hymn, 
He only sees what man has been, 
What he will be when freed of sin 
And all the vanities of earth — 
Long hardened guilt and wanton mirth. 

This gives the key b^^ which to tune our lives, 
He who is truly great is he who strives 
To purify his inmost heart — 

No matter what that may imply — 

He who will conquer self or die 
And scorn the self-inflicted smart. 

Then let us make the most of life. 
In youth prepare to join the strife. 



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18 POEMS OF 



Which must full soon our thoughts engage, 
Let us, upon the narrow stage 
Of youthful years, train well the mind 
Unto God's plans to be resigned. 

Then in the hurried, throbbing crowd 

That throngs the thoroughfares of life, 

Jostling each other, cursing loud 

Their comrades in the maddening strife. 

Calmly let us pursue our way. 

With neither hurry nor delay, 

Crushing not the weaker brother, 

But kindh- aiding one another. 

Guiding the erring to the cross, 

While purging from ourselves the di0 5s, 

Bearing malice unto none 

But true love to every one. 

Thus shall we perform our duty. 
Making life a thing of beauty, 
And the true greatness of mankind, 
With sweet felicity of mind, 
We shall have: then, when the dreary 

Death shades settle, black I trow. 
And our mortal natures, weary. 

Feel the cold sweat on the brow, 
When the thought of the eternal 

Makes the parting spirit pause, 
And the dread of the supernal 

At the slow heart's center gnaws, 



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PURPOSE. 19 

We shall feel our Savior's hand 
Leading us to that blest land, 
Where, blood-washed, with one accord, 
We shall praise our risen Lord. 



TO LONGFELLOW. 



(Died, March 24, 1882.) 
Thou purest of the pure, the flowers of love 

Shall bloom above thy ashes. Thy sweet voice 
Will vibrate on the heart-strings, while rejoice 
The unborn ages. All thy labors prove 
That virtue can humanity still move. 

Oft as the maiden, v^ith a tremulous voice. 
Shall read Evangeline, she, for thy choice 
Of theme, will bless thee; for it is above 
The maudlin sentiment of lust and wine. 
And yet is sweetly simple as a child. 
Thy life as well as verse was chaste and mild. 
Columbia will thy memory enshrine; 

For thou wert her chief son, sublimely great, 
Warm-hearted, pure-souled, and compassion- 
ate. 



ODE TO LANGUAGE. 



Sweeter than meadows at dawn of day. 

When the dew-drops kiss the fragrant clover. 
Is a voice I shall hear till the end of life's wa\% 

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20 POEMS OF 



Like the song of an angel passing over. 

Dearly I love that sweet voice, which doth haunt 

me 

Like the tones of a fairy, dispelling all wrong; 
And also I love, as I should, you will grant me. 

The language which carries such sweetness 
along. 

Other beauties hath language, no doubt. 
Surrounded by heights, so sublime 

That all lusting for pelf she drives out, 
And awakens the heavenly chime. 

To live at her court would be grand! 

I can ask for no better a part 
Than to give to her service my hand 

And to cherish her cause in my heart. 



SOLITUDE. 



Alone! 
What sadness hangs upon the tone! 
Our nature shrinks instinctively 
From isolation. 
We fondly fly 
To the loved bosom for an inspiration. 
When doubt and sorrow come 
Amid the daily hum 

Of plodding care; 
And the pure balm of loving sympathy, 

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PURPOSE. 21 

Upborne on wings of prayer, 
Invigorates the soul and fires the eye 
For right again to do and dare. 

Alone! 
What agony the word makes known! 
No word but agony expresses 

The painful yearning, 
Which us distresjses, 
When, reft of friends, some else glad thought is 
burning 

Our heart life quite away; 
While, oh, if ^ve but may 
Breathe to a friend 
The rapture which is glowing in the heart. 

Both feel its joyous trend. 
Its influence widens, of our lives a part. 
Through ages which shall have no end. 

Alone! 
May it not be a joyous tone? 
Sometimes, w^hen Ave have grown to earth. 
Is solitude 
Not of much worth? 
Does not God often, with a seeming rude 
And cruel stroke of wrath. 
Make clear our mortal path, 
And turn awaj^ 
Our hearts from that which drags us down to 
hell? 

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22 POEMS OF 



Does he not bide us stay 
With him apart, that in our hearts may dwell 
His Spirit with a proper sway? 



LET US HOPE. 



I 



If you are a misanthrojje, 
Outcast from the heaven of hope, 
From its loveh' bastions hurled 
Down into the nether world 

Of despair, — 
If you cannot rise above 
Sneer at good and scorn of love. 
Seek your w^ell-earned Tartarus, 
Be no more an incubus. 
Frightening from the world the vision of 
the fair. 

Many are the hearts that bleed 
Now and in the da\'s gone by, 
Awful is the agony 

Of many a soul in bitter need. 

But a beckoning hand on high 
Points us from the filthy sty 
Of the swine of selfishness. 

That hand stretched out in merc\' heed; 
Only as we live to bless 
Others, will our griefs grow less. 



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PURPOSE. 23 



On the page of history 

Are recorded for our eye 

Lives of simple love and truth, 

Fountains of immortal youth, 

Unknown to the son of Spain 

Who sailed across the threatening main 

And sought the sunny land of flov^ers, 

Where nature smiles her sweetest smile, 
Found no renewal of his powers 

And died upon the neighboring isle. 

Let us heed the warning voice 

Of the oracles of time, 
Let us evermore rejoice 

'Mong the multitudes sublime. 
Who, in all the ages gone, 
Wheresoe'er the sun hath shone, 
Have pursued the even way 
Of their lives from day to day, 
Seeing with the eye of faith 
Flight of real wrong and wraith. 



THE TEN WORDS IN VERSE. 



1. I am thy God, Jehovah, thou 
Before no other gods shalt bow. 

2. No graven image shalt thou make 

Of aught in earth or sea or heaven, 



24. POEMS OF 



Offrings to them thou shalt not take, 
No homage to them shall be given. 

3. Jehovah, God of grace, his name. 

With thoughtless lips, thou shalt not frame. 

4. Remember thou the sabbath day 
And keep it holy through life's way. 
Thou shalt work six days out of seven, 
The seventh shall be a type of heaven. 

5. Unto thy father and thy mother give 
Honor, that in thy land thou long may 'st live. 

6. Another's life thou shalt not take; 
Nor hate him, lest this law thou break. 

7. Adultery thou shalt not do. 

So God may love thee pure and true. 

8. What is another's thou shalt never steal; 
Be honest, for thy own and other's weal. 

9. Against thy neighbor thou shalt never bear 
False witness, nor in other's share. 

10. Thou shalt not covet aught which is th}- 
neighbor's 
That which is his nor that for which he 
labors. 



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PURPOSE. 25 



A PRAYER. 



O Father, we are low, 

Low in the dust of sin. 
Wilt thou in mercy lift us up 

And reign our hearts within. 

We have not lived a life 

Of constant love and faith. 
Come thou and dwell within our hearts 
And save our souls from scathe. 

Oh, give us, Lord, the love 

Which nothing knows of fear. 
The trust which has its home above. 
The joy which grows not sere, 

That we on earth may chant 

The praise of Christ our King, 
And in the blissful courts of heaven 

The saint's grand anthem sing. 



THANKSGIVING. 



Thanksgiving Day. Why should it not 
Be every day's delightful lot 
To sing a song of grateful praise 
Unto the Author of our days? 

Although the clouds obscure the sky, 
We know the sun still shines on high 

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26 POEMS OF 



And thank Thee, Lord. If friends have gone, 

If the soul's mate has journied on 

And left a vacant home and heart. 

If the lone spirit feels the smart 

Of severed ties, we thank thee. Lord, 

That, ere Thou brok'st the thrilling chord. 

It sounded out such harmony 

Of trusting love and sympathy. 

Yes, Lord, we thank thee above all 
That honey from the bitter gall 
Thou canst distil, that unto grief 
Thou grantest sweet and sure relief. 
That for our sin thou didst atone. 
And made us evermore Thine own. 

Then whatsoe'er thy holy will, 
Oh, give us grace to trust Thee still. 
That for each blessed gift we may 
Thank Thee, O Lord, from day to day. 
And if thou tak'st the gift away. 
Help us, "Thy will be done," to say. 



HARMONY. 



Pythagoras, the dreamer of old Greece, 

Fired by the majest3^ of stellar brightness. 
Braved the unstable element of Neptime, 

And in Nilotic lands drank to the dregs 
^ ■ — )^ 



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PURPOSE. 27 



The cup of knowledge astronomical, 

And eke among the shepherds of Chaldea, 
The pioneers of natnre-loving students, 

Who first to calculate eclipses learned. 

Thus thirty years he garnered up the fruits 
Of other lands to least his native country; 
Then for his numerous pu])ils formulated 

The fancies of a com])reheTisive brain. 

His life cannot be put in evidence 

To prove man's grov^th in grasp of mental 
powder, 

Although Coj^ernicus has had the glory 
Of one grand truth he of Crotona taught. 

He thought the planets were at intervals 

Which corresponded to the scale in music. 
And that they, moving in their rythmic 
cycles. 

Made harmony to glad the ears of gods. 

The thought was grand in s])ite of modern 

sneers, 

And worthy of the sanction of a Kepler. 

Its beauty ought to waken admiration 
In every one who loves to scan the sk\^ 

For though the thought be wrong, a harmony. 
Of which the mortal may have a conception , 
And add a tone to the exalted chorus, 

Floods with its sweetness all the universe. 



H<' 



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28 POEMS OF 



FRAQilENTS OF VERSE. 



My spirit has been elevated 
Above the groveUng cares it hated 
By seeing 3^011 trudge through each day 
As yours were no uncertain way. 

It is sad, he said, 
Vigils to keep among the dead 
In the great grave-yard Might-have-been , 
And see the smile, the scow^l, the grin. 
Of flitting ghOvSts amid the gloom 
Of memory, the common tomb 
Of all the good or bad that were 
In former vears. 



Investigation is the life of truth, 
Whose acid touch but cleanses purity 
Yet writes damnation on hypocrisy. 



Childhood should be a golden age 

For man, that when he must engage 

In th' iron cares of after years 

With the w^orld's falsehoods and its sneers, 

Tasting past sweets, the aftermath 

He may ingather without wrath; 

For after cold and loveless youth 

One sickens at the bitter truth 

Of the world's chillness. 

^ i^ 



PURPOSE. 29 



Into my life light did not shine, 

Then leave a blacker darkness mine; 

The Sun of truth's bright system shone 

From day to day and still shines on; 

At first the dawn, then clearer light, 

And fewer traces of the night; 

In God's own time will end this life of care; 

With God our light, no night will then be there. 



The Bible found the world in darkness sunk, 
With nameless vice and blood-dimmed glory 

drunk; 
Where it had sway, life has been glorified. 
Freedom has taken form, and knowledge been ap- 
plied. 



Rays from the beacon-pyre on Calvary 
Light up the harbor of eternity. 



The body's sins there's no one to atone for; 
And no one calls the God of nature harsh. 
Because fit penalty dogs closely vice. 



Oh, who would pluck the blushing rose of lust. 
Could but the worm be seen which eats up all 
Except the thorn? 



We reap as we have sown, 
For character is crescent and eterne. 



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